one; she had asked her small
cousins who he was, and had been told in an awe-struck whisper that it
was their father. That was probably the only time she had ever laid
eyes on him; and somehow she did not connect him with what was
happening to her now. It was all her aunt's doing; the thin and
thoughtful man had not looked as if he were heartless, he would not
have allowed his brother's child to be turned out a beggar, under the
letter of the law.

Yet the Princess's most ultimate and affectionate enemies had not
succeeded in fathoming the mystery. Two of them, who were connections
of her husband's, had once had a theory that she had locked him up and
kept him a prisoner for her own ends; a similar case had then recently
occurred in Palermo, where a widowed lady and her daughter had been
kept in confinement during several years, and almost starved to death,
by the wicked steward of their estates. Accordingly, the aforesaid
connections had appealed to the chief of secret police for information
about their relative; but in a few days he had been able to tell them
confidently that the Marchese del Prato was in good health and quite
free, that he was an enthusiastic scholar, and was writing an
exhaustive work on the mythology of Pindar's _Odes_, and that there
was no cause for any anxiety about him. So that matter was settled for
ever.

At half-past three o'clock the Princess went away, leaving the lawyers
and clerks to finish their work, for she was more than satisfied that
no will nor any similar document would be found amongst the late
Prince's papers, and everything else was mere formality; the regular
inventories would be made later when the succession duties had to be
paid, but meanwhile there was nothing to hinder her from taking
possession in her husband's name. Before leaving the palace she sent
for the butler, and told him that 'Signorina Angela' was to be
requested to 'remove her effects' the next day. She further
condescended to inform him that the 'Signorina' had been ascertained
to be a nameless foundling who had no share in the inheritance and
must shift for herself, as it was not the intention of the Prince to
support such a person. The butler had learned something of the great
Roman families during a brilliant career in the servants' hall, and he
could have told some singularly romantic tales, but he had never had
experience of anything like this. He tried to look at the Princess for
a moment before he a